


Homemaking

by littlemiss_m



Series: HOME, a series [6]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Adoption, And Then Some, Angst, Anxiety, Clarus Amicitia is a good dad, Dad!Cor, Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, cor is too good for this world, prompto argentum gets all the love he needs and deserves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-03-31 11:26:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13974126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemiss_m/pseuds/littlemiss_m
Summary: The calm after a storm, the lull between before and after. Prompto finally has a loving family around him; now it's time to make it official.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during Prompto and Noctis' second year of high school, a few weeks after the events of Homewrecking.
> 
> This is my personal favorite out of all the pieces I've written for the series. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do <3

Prompto is vaguely aware of Iris standing behind his door but he can muster neither the energy to get up nor the will to call her in. He sits on the edge of his bed, arms crossed over his chest and fingers twisted into knots behind his neck. He's not sure if he's breathing anymore, lungs constricting but finding no air. He doesn't even know why he's feeling so bad, why his anxiety's way off the charts, why getting up for breakfast suddenly feels like the hardest thing to do. Just sitting up was enough to exhaust all his energy.

There's someone else at the door, someone with large hands that leave the room reverbating with the echo of his knocks. Prompto can't respond but Clarus enters the room nevertheless, slowly twisting the knob and cracking the door open just a fraction. He sees Prompto and sighs. ”Hey there, kid,” he says, suddenly kneeling on the plush carpet next to the bed. Prompto didn't even notice him approach. ”You having a panic attack?”

Prompto shakes his head. He doesn't know what's wrong with him, but he's had enough panic attacks in his life to know this isn't one. Whatever this is, it's been building steadily over the past few days, leaving him exhausted and cloudy and confused over the littlest things. It's an unforgiving metal corset around his ribs and white fog in his brain, limbs too tired to comply with his orders. Prompto can't understand why he's falling so badly now that everything is over, now that he's safe and guarded and wanted.

”Did you take your pills already?” Clarus asks. Prompto hasn't been able to get to the bathroom, never mind digging through the plastic bottles for the new coctail of drugs he's on. ”Nevermind, I'll get them. I think we should get you another doctor's appointment, yeah? Doesn't look like those meds agree with you too well.”

He's handed a glass of water and his morning dose of pills one-by-one – anxiety, stomach, iron – and he swallows them without spilling the water even if his hands shake like leaves. It's a school day but Prompto knows he can't go, can't bear the mere thought of sitting in class hour after hour after hour, and Clarus nods at him before he can try to form the question into words. ”I'll call the school, don't worry about that.”

Prompto missed the first week of school, and the way he feels right now, he's pretty sure he's going to miss the third one as well. He has no idea how he managed to survive the second week – barely has any memories of the days spent in class – but at least he doesn't have to worry about lagging behind. In every subject that deals with math, he's already better than his teachers, and the rest are just memorization. He can do that. None of the staff gives him any trouble anymore and even the most xenophobic teachers shut their mouths once they heard that Clarus Amicitia and Cor Leonis were in the process of adopting him.

They're giving him so much more than a roof over his head. Prompto has a new credit card in his wallet, an updated security clearance at the Citadel, and so many things more. He no longer has to worry about being kicked out of Noct's life but a million new worries have already overtaken the empty slot. They're gifting him things he hasn't even deserved and Prompto's terrified of the day they realize their mistakes and take them back.

Clarus is speaking. Prompto looks at him, sees his lips move. The voice registers a moment too late, like a movie with an out-of-synch voice track. ”Is there something specific that's bothering you?” he asks. ”Can I help somehow?”

The question is too big to answer. Prompto thinks of Iris behind the door, the breakfast he's been invited to. ”You're missing breakfast,” he mumbles. ”And you have work.”

”Not if I've got a sick kid at home,” Clarus says. ” Or do you want to go to Cor's today?”

”He's got work too.”

”Not if _he's_ got a sick kid at home,” Clarus repeats himself. ”He mostly does paperwork anyways, nothing he can't do from home.”

Prompto doesn't know. He's too agitated to be making any decisions, especially one that's too close to being asked to choose one person over the other, though the sprawling manor is a distress he hasn't yet learned to deal with and Cor's apartment is the exact opposite, small and compact. Prompto looks up at Clarus who smiles and claps his shoulder.

* * *

It's sunny outside. Prompto stuffs his hands in the jackets of his winter coat and squints at the bright glitter of partially frozen snow that crunches under his boots. The jungle gym is full of little kids, screaming and laughing and crying. Prompto tries to tell Clarus he doesn't need to be escorted all the way to Cor's door but he doesn't listen.

Upstairs, Cor opens the door before they touch the doorbell. He steps aside with a smile and Prompto slinks past him, shedding boots and winter garments as he goes. He dumps them on an empty hook on the wall and walks straight to his room, closing the door almost completely before curling up in the bed. The front door closes with a dull click but then there's talk coming from the hallway and Prompto realizes Clarus is still there, still in Cor's apartment. He's surprised by how intently he feels about Clarus' presence and finds himself wishing the other would just leave, let things be as they're supposed to be.

They're talking about him. Cor's words are an unintelligible mess lost in walls and furniture, but Clarus' voice carries over clearer. ”–the new medication–” he says, then something else, ”–really out of it–” and then it's Cor speaking for a moment longer. The door opens, closes, and Prompto closes his eyes in relief because it's only Cor and him in the apartment now.

A quick rap against a doorframe and Cor peeks in. ”Hey, kid,” he murmurs. ”I'm gonna stay at home with you but I've got a co-worker bringing a bunch of work over in thirty minutes or so. Just letting you know so you won't be surprised if you hear the door.”

Prompto nods, drags his face on the pillow cover. ”'Kay,” he whispers, then asks because he's anxious about everything: ”Who?”

”Monica Elshett,” Cor answers. ”I don't think you've ever met her but she works directly under me along with Dustin. She's not gonna stay for long.”

Words exhausted, Prompto nods once more. Cor eyes him for a moment. ”Clarus said you didn't eat any breakfast,” he says. ”Do you think you could eat if I fixed you something?”

Prompto can't. The meds make him so nauseous he can't stomach anything till later on in the day, and even then it's just because he knows the hunger he feels only works to intensify the nausea. The first couple of days, he ate everything within his reach, enough to startle Gladio and Ignis alike, but now he's lucky if he can stomach a piece of toast.

He doesn't notice Cor leaving the room.


	2. Chapter 2

Prompto doesn't know how long he's slept for, only that when he wakes up, his mind is clear enough that he can actually think. He feels marginally better already, his limbs no longer protesting when he crawls his way out of the bed and to the ensuite and the toilet calling for him. Afterwards, he washes his hands with soap that smells of citruses and splashes cold water on his overheated face. He still feels like shit, but at least the fog has cleared some.

He plops back down on the bed and pulls the covers over his feet, stares at the ceiling in jumbled thought. There's a thin line of light pouring in from the gap between the curtain and the window, enough sunshine pooling in to cast shadows around the room. Prompto's still laying on his back when Cor comes in once more, so he turns to curl on his side to make space on the bed. Cor sits down in the half-circle of his body and rests his hand on Prompto's upper back.

”Feeling better yet?”

Prompto sighs and pushes into the warmth of Cor's hand. ”A little,” he says. ”Kinda sick still.”

Cor nods. ”You have a doctor's appointment next Thursday, before the therapist. You'll have to skip your last class that day.”

”Yeah.” Prompto has his 'own' physician and therapist at the Citadel medical wing now, just like Noctis and Gladio and Ignis all do. Perks of being an almost-Amicitia. Or an almost-Leonis. They haven't decided yet. ”What time is it?”

”Almost ten. Is there anything you could eat?”

Prompto thinks for a moment and shakes his head. ”Not yet,” he says, trying to ignore the way his stomach rolls at the mere thought of food. ”Should probably drink something, though.”

He didn't think to grab a glass while he was up. Cor pats his back before getting up and leaving, and Prompto doesn't even feel bad about making him run around the apartment for him. Slowly, he pulls his legs up and sits himself against the wall, eagerly accepting the glass of water when Cor returns a moment later. He's got a banana in the other hand, still a bit green and just the way Prompto likes it. He smiles when Cor sets the fruit on the bed.

Prompto sips at the water carefully, testing his stomach. The cool liquid is soothing in his throat but he knows from experience that too much too soon will only make him hurl. The only sound in the room comes from Cor shuffling on the bed until his pose mirrors that of Prompto's, long back braced against the wall and legs criss-crossed over the blanket. They don't speak, not yet.

Prompto sets the glass of water on the bedside table, but when he makes to turn away, he falters. All of sudden he remembers the photograph hiding in the drawer under the little knick-knacks he's collected over time, a comb and a tube of lip balm and some hair ties. ”Hey, Cor,” he says slowly, embarrassed and hopeful and grieving for some reason, ”could you – could you tell me about mom?”

Cor startles a little, like he wasn't expecting the question, but soon he relaxes against the wall once more. He's smiling at Prompto, a little crook of a thing on his lips. ”Mimosa?” he says, shrugging. ”Yeah, sure. But... I didn't really know her on her own, without John by her side.”

Prompto shakes his head. ”That's okay,” he murmurs. He picks up the banana and plays with the stalk. ”Back then dad was still – okay.”

His dad loved him once. Prompto remembers John crying when he learned to ride the bike without the training wheels, dad gone for a second to drop the tools inside and him flying down the road without a care of the world. He remembers a lot of things like that, his parents cuddling on the couch after he'd gone to bed, John picking him up and throwing him in the air like he weighted nothing. They were good times.

”How'd you first meet mom?” he asks shyly, picking at the banana skin.

”Eh,” Cor breathes, staring up at the ceiling in thought. ”John showed up at work one day, babbling about how he'd just met the most gorgeous woman ever. Called her the personification of the Dawn Mother, like sunshine walking on two feet? I can't remember the exact words, but I'm sure you get the idea.”

Prompto grins despite himself. ”He wasn't wrong, was he,” he says. It's easy, somehow, to talk about his mom and dad instead just his dad. They're two different people, the first John and the second, one warm and loving, the other broken and breaking.

Cor laughs. ”Some might call it a family rememblance,” he says, smirking.

Prompto is too flustered to answer, so he tugs at the banana skin until it tears. The sweet smell of the fruit makes his mouth flood with saliva. ”But how'd you meet her?” he asks, face hot. ”You didn't say that.”

”Right, so John wanted to take her out on a proper date, wining and dining and so on, except they obviously couldn't take you with them to the kind of a restaurant he had reservations for,” Cor begins. He shakes his head but doesn't cease smiling. ”At that point, Mimosa had only been in Insomnia for three or four months, so she didn't really have any good friends yet. John, the idiot, had seen me playing with Gladio and decided that made me a suitable babysitter.”

Prompto laughs, startled. ”He actually talked mom into leaving me with a strange man she'd never met before?”

”Mm-hm.” Cor grins at him but there's a hint of sadness in his eyes now. ”She did show up in person to drop you off. I'm gonna lie, I wasn't going to do it at first, but... I saw them both standing in there in cheap dress clothes, you know, my friend John and this scrap of a woman with a smile that doesn't really hide the scars of war on her, and suddenly I'm thinking – the war's over, the world's rebuilding, and these two people just want to have one night for themselves.”

His voice gets wetter towards the end. Prompto thinks he'd see tears if he looked up so he keeps his gaze down, chews on the banana instead until his mouth is filled with a gooey mess that sticks to his gums and tongue. Cor continues speaking: ”They fell in love so fast that a lot of people were sure it wouldn't last. It did.” He pauses, not because he's out of words, but because his voice breaks and falters. ”It wasn't the perfect world or the perfect life, they both had their own problems, but they made do and worked through them. They loved each other so much, and you as well. Mimosa was – she'd lived her life in the middle of a war zone, and she still came out kinder and more good-hearted than I'd ever thought possible. I've never met another person like her. I don't think I ever will, for that matter. She was truly special and I am blessed to have know her.”

Prompto swallows another mouthful of banana and tries to lick the back of his front teeth clean. ”Why'd you go to his funeral?” he asks.

Cor sighs. ”Because,” he says, slow and deliberate and heartbroken, ”there was a time when we were brothers to each others.”

”Did they put him next to mom?”

It's what he asked for. Clarus and Noctis and the others didn't understand, not really, but Prompto thinks Cor might have.

”Yeah, kid, they did.”

Prompto puts away the half-eaten, quickly browning banana and crawls under Cor's arm.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, Prompto's still off but good enough to go to school. He gets out of bed when Cor wakes him up for breakfast, then sits at the kitchen table working on homework while he waits for Ignis to come pick him up. Ignis takes one look at him and asks if he's really well enough, and Prompto insists he is. At school, he and Noctis visit the teachers' lounge so he can drop off all his supplementary work for grading.

It doesn't really feel like an unnormal day at all. They walk to class with their arms thrown around each other and sit side-by-side behind desks they push together. Most teachers don't even bother reprimanding them for it anymore, only tell them to separate for tests and exams. The classroom is almost empty and Prompto suddenly can't remember what subject they have first.

”You nervous for today?” Noctis asks. He dumps his Lucian workbook on his desk and Prompto hurries to get his.

”Yeah,” he says.

”You shouldn't be, I'm sure it's gonna be fine.”

Today is The Day. Prompto looks at the cover of his workbook, the blue-and-black crest and the picture of the Citadel from some hundred years ago, before they built the latest expansion. Today is the day they're going to decide between Cor and Clarus, and Prompto tries to tell himself that neither is not an option. He's not very successful.

* * *

He makes it halfway through World History, the third class of the day and the last before they have lunch. He stares at the teacher scribbling on the blackboard, realizes she might as well be writing in another language, and simply walks out of the classroom. No-one tries to stop him and at first he thinks no-one's going to come after him either, but then Noctis rushes into the hallway too, carrying both their bags, and Prompto thinks _oh_. That's what he forgot.

He's spinning in the hallway, trying to make sense of the world around him. He's not supposed to be in the hallways during class but he can't be _in_ class either, and somehow it feels like he's managed to transcend to some other realm. Noctis touches his elbow, then his shoulder, puts an arm around him and leans close.

”So, I think we're just gonna go home now,” he says. Prompto nods and wrings his hands. ”Let's go wait in the nurse's office, and I'll call Specs to pick us up, okay?”

The nurse lays him in a bed and shares a few words his Noctis, but Prompto is so agitated that he feels he could vibrate out of his skin and staring at the blank white ceiling doesn't help him. Noctis crawls in next to him, phone in hand. ”Hey, uh, I'm sorry to ask this,” he says, ”but did you take your meds today?”

”Yes,” Prompto answers right away, but the more he thinks about it the more confused he gets and then he realizes he doesn't even know where his pills are, if they're in his school bag or the one Ignis took to Noct's apartment, or if he left them at Cor's apartment or even in his room at the manor. ”No. I don't know. They don't work.”

”Yeeah, buddy, I can see that,” Noctis says. He's got his phone in his hands and though Prompto can see the screen and the green bubbles of the messaging app, he can't make out the words.

Ignis arrives next (except it probably takes a bit longer than that, he just doesn't notice it) and Prompto spends the entire car ride clinging to Noctis. Once inside the apartment, Ignis sits him down on the couch and hands him his pills, watches him swallow them down. He doesn't know where the plastic bottles came from and starts bawling.

* * *

A few hours later, Prompto rests sprawled over Noctis' lap and watches him play the latest Assassin's Creed. The pills took of the worst edge of his agitation but he's still unfocused, like he was walking inside a cloud. Ignis fed them tomato soup and sandwiches for lunch and now he's back in the kitchen, working on dinner. He said they'll have pizza later on, when everyone shows up after the decision is made. Prompto tells himself that if they're having pizza, then things can't go badly because Ignis' homemade pizza is a reward for a line of A's on a report card. If he was expecting bad news, he'd be making curry.

Gladio and Iris walk in. Prompto drums his fingers against Noct's knee and tries to smile when Gladio comes over to ruffle his hair before disappearing into the kitchen. Iris sits on the armchair and pretends to watch the game, but in reality she's too busy blushing in Noctis' direction. Prompto, in his drugged-up, way-out-of-it glory, notices this. Noctis doesn't, probably.

The front door opens once more and though Prompto lies facing away from it, he knows it's Clarus and Cor coming in. Then he hears a laugh that's neither of the two and realizes the king is there too. Noctis looks over his shoulder and curses. ”Dad's got his troll face on,” he murmurs under his breath. Prompto gets up on his knees and leans against the backrest, and true enough, Regis is smiling smugly. Clarus wears a smile that looks like it comes from deep inside his heart, but Cor is scowling something fierce and Prompto's stomach drops.

He's been asked over and over again if he has a preference. He doesn't, so the gist of the debate is this: Cor knows him better and has a legal claim, but Clarus has done a good job raising his own two kids and already has Prompto living under his roof. There were two ways for this to go and it looks like Clarus came out victorious.

Prompto isn't upset, but he's too overwhelmed to feel relieved either.

”Prompto!” Regis says, beaming. He claps one hand on Clarus' shoulder. ”Here's your new daddy!”

There's a chorus of cheers from Gladio and Iris. Prompto nods, thinks he's smiling a little. Cor's expression darkens and darkens and darkens and then the king rests his other hand on a tense shoulder and says, ”and here's your second daddy!” and Prompto's brain shortcircuits a little because he hadn't even known that was an option.

”Well, well,” Ignis drawls, raising an eyebrow at Gladio and Noctis. ”I will be collecting my winnings later on.”

Prompto splutters. ” _You bet on me?_ ”

He's still staring at Ignis when he feels strong arms wrap around his body and lift him up from the couch. Prompto screeches and holds on for dear life as Gladio throws them both onto an armchair; he bounces once, twice on a pair of meaty thighs and then Iris is climbing onto _his_ lap, smiling brightly. His mind is still trying to catch up with everything when Noctis bounds up, holding his camera, and he can't even freak out because he's already freaking out over everything else.

Prompto blinks at the camera flash. He knows the settings are wrong and Noctis holds the camera too high and too far from them, probably leaving too much empty space around them. He tries to say so but can't find the words to express himself. ”Okay, _daddies_ , you get in the pic too,” Noctis smirks. Clarus beams and Cor scowls.

”I'm planning regicide,” he says. ”You should arrest me.”

”Aww, Cor, don't be like that,” Clarus coos. Prompto doesn't know how to react. He's never seen the adults like this. ”It's bad for the children to see their parents arguing.”

They stand behind the armchair and Prompto has to crane his neck to see them. Cor squeezes his shoulder but doesn't stop frowning. ”I only have one,” he says. When Prompto understand what he's talking about, his entire face flushes red-hot.

”How lovely,” Regis sighs from somewhere behind Noctis, who's trying to take a selfie with Prompto and the others on the background. ”Such a beautiful family. My–”

”For the last time, you can't fucking marry people against their will!” Cor spits. Prompto splutters and isn't the only one.

”Cor, my boy, I am the _king_ ,” Regis boasts. ”I can do what I want.”

”You're a shit king is what–”

The three adults continue to bicker even as Ignis calls them all to the dining table with several spare chairs arranged around it. It's a tight fit and Prompto ends up smushed between Gladio and Noctis, so close their thighs and arms are touching no matter how they sit. The smell of fresh pizza floats in the air, tomatoes and basil and cheese, and Prompto thinks they're waiting for dinner but instead Ignis reappears with a cake. The frosting is white, speckled with the little black dots or real vanilla beans, and Prompto guesses it's all chocolate inside because that's his favorite and Ignis knows it.

He's offered the cake knife but his hands shake so badly he's afraid of accidentally killing himself with it, so Ignis cuts him a slice and hands it over with a sweet smile. If his piece is thicker than what the others are offered, no-one mentions it. Prompto sobs into Gladio's well-defined arm muscles and stuffs his mouth with cake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Still not the end of the series :)
> 
> 2) Cor and Clarus aren't actually married, Regis just lives to tease Cor while Clarus goes along for the ride.


End file.
